Son of Perdition
by Hey Missy
Summary: Let no man deceive you by any means: for that day shall not come, except there come a falling away first, and that man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N this story contains a subject that may be offending to some (moderately graphic domestic violence). if you are easily offended or do not agree with certain subjects please leave now. intended for mature audiences. Non-canon.**

Tara Knowles cringes in her bed as she hears him arriving home. He stumbles on the coffee table an enters the dim lighted room making sure he is noted. She keeps quiet and pretends to sleep as she feels the mattress dip with the weight of his unsteady body.

He places a hand on her hunched shoulder and pulls her back while climbing relentlessly over her body. "Get off of me, prick!" Jax Teller ignores her and makes himself comfortable the best way he can while spreading her legs apart with the strength of his own. He reeks of cheap beer and stale scotch causing her to turn her head, nauseated.

Tara tries to push him away but it is useless since he is so much stronger. "Why you fighting? I have all the right to do this! We're a couple, in case you forgot."

She's not sure how long she will stand this. After being elected the _President _things should be better but they only went downhill. He felt insecure with his new position and adding to the fact that a few members of his posse had died without him being able to do anything about it made him feel weak and guilty. When she couldn't support him no longer he turned to emptying bottles. _Booze never judges _he would say.

Now he is drunk yet again. And this time aiming his faulty behavior towards her. Jax starts tugging at her nightgown to which she protests vehemently. "I want you naked!" he slurs, not stopping until he has the fabric bunched up her waist. She tries to pull it back down but he holds her arms above her head with one hand while the other goes down right between her thighs. "No, don't!"

He ignores her claim and inserts the two fingers knuckle deep. She is dry causing her to yelp as he circles the limbs against her walls. He proceeds to rub her button with the tip of his thumb smiling wickedly as she squirms to escape. "I know you want this, bitch!" he growls into her ear making her shake even harder.

She sighs relieved as soon as he brings out the moist fingers only to hold her breath in despair as she notices that what he's about to bring in next is much bigger and thicker. "No, no, no! Jax, please, don't..." She kicks and squirms trying desperately to push him away. He smirks. "Why you still fighting? Should know by now I always get what I want from you..."

She wants to scream for help. But she knows it won't bring any type of commotion, let alone the police. She's in a relationship with a biker after all, thus meaning she was_ asking for it. _It's her neighbors way of thinking, they just don't care about her luck anymore.

The first lunge is enough to make her clench her jaw and squeeze her eyes so tight she can see white sparkles dancing around in her head. Jax thrusts deeper and deeper until she stops still. Tara gives up on fighting, punching his shoulders and pleading for mercy. She accepts her fate, silently praying for it to end. She dares to look at him one last time. He is not the man she once loved and learned to respect anymore. This is a monster. A primitive ancient god that thrives on her tears.

And then she feels it rising inside. Unexpected. Unwanted. Unacceptable. A warm wave of pleasure runs from her womb to her thighs. He stops for a very short while, still inside of her, to lick the salty tears off her face. She thinks it is over but he rages back mightier than before.

Surprisingly to both being drunk makes him last longer yet take longer too. After a while he is grumbling, accusing her of being selfish for not helping him reach his own pinnacle. He pulls her hips up. "Move it, bitch!" He demands as she aimlessly wriggles under his command.

Finally Jax reaches his intent exploding into spurts of dense lava inside of her. "Fuck yeah!" He rejoices in splendor as she lies motionless under his trembling body.

He falls back fainting sound asleep. Tara observes the smile of achievement that has formed on his lips. A thought strikes her mind. She could shoot him dead right there. No judge in the world would condemn her after she shows the wounds, the bruises between her legs. She may not walk firmly for a month. She may not recover from the violence inflicted upon her ever again...

She lies back instead. Her body curls into a small ball of shame as the tears stream freely down.

_**TBC**_


	2. Chapter 2

"You look like crap," Margaret Murphy states handing Tara a Styrofoam cup filled with steaming hot coffee. "I know, right?" Tara takes the cup and starts crying again. "I still can't believe he did this to me. I just can't!" she sobs.

Margaret sits back on her chair, there is a smug look on her face yet she is kind enough not to utter a single judgmental word. She places the small white box in front of Tara, instead. "What is this?"

The woman looks back at Tara, genuinely surprised, "I thought you knew." Tara rubs her aching eyes, "I do know what it is, I just don't understand why you brought it to me." Margaret huffs. "You've been assaulted, Tara. Every victim has the right to be assisted by a rape kit. Just read the instructions, in case you don't know where to start." Tara pushes the box away. "I showered this morning, any evidence left went down the drain. Besides, I don't want him in prison, I just want him to..." She starts crying again while Margaret stands and rubs her shoulders, reassuringly. "I just want him back, the man he used to be, not the beast he has become."

"Non-consensual is non-consensual, Tara. It does not matter who it comes from. I will be in my office all day, if you need me," Margaret announces as Tara heads to the door, leaving the rape kit behind.


	3. Chapter 3

"He is here." Tara has just dismissed her little patient when she sees Margaret standing at the door. "I can call the police," she offers. Tara ignores her.

It has been two long days and two even longer nights sleeping in the call room, anything to avoid what she desperately dreads. Her inner thighs still hurt and she has not completely emotionally recovered yet but being away from her tormentor is a form of healing. In a way. He has called, of course. But she doesn't pick up her phone. He will have to try harder.

Jax is sitting on his bike, smoking and looking into the horizon. He stands up and flicks the cigarette away as soon as he spots her walking out of the St. Thomas. "Oh, you're alive. I was ready to call the morgue," he snaps.

She pretends not to acknowledge the poignant irony and crosses her arms in front of her chest while keeping a safe distance from his claws. "What do you want, Jax?" Judging by the tone in her voice she is not the least happy to see him. He shrugs. "I haven't seen you in a while, what's with the M.I.A.?"

"I've been on call." She lies. "Well, it's about time you go home. I need you there," he demands. Tara takes a deep breath before answering. It is the moment she's been waiting for, the rush of the impending breaking point stirs up inside of her but she will not dodge it. "I want you out of my house, Jax. I don't want you there when I go back tonight." Thankfully her voice does not stutter. "The fuck, Tara?"

She is ready for it. "You have a problem, Jax, a drinking problem. We're not going back while you don't clean up. You need help. I am willing to support you if you ever need me to but as for now we're on a break." Tara compliments herself silently for not flinching just once.

"You call a couple of beers with my men a drinking problem? When the fuck did you turn into Miss Goody Two-Shoes?" Jax scowls back. "I'm not going anywhere and you're coming right back tonight or I..."

"Or what, Jax? You're out. Period."

Jax still can't believe her words. She is only half way through, though. "I want you to go to AA meetings."

It is the last straw for him. "Is this what you really think of me? After all we've been through? I thought we were at least friends." His denial is almost tangible.

"Jax...Jax, listen to me," the tears well-up in her eyes, "it's not like that. You just don't get it, do you? My own dad was a drunk. I lost count of how many nights I cried myself to sleep, only wishing he could find the cure. I refuse to go back to that hell again."

She is pouring her heart, he can see. But still not enough to make him come up with a positive answer. Jax puts his sunglasses on, fastens the straps of his helmet and starts the engine. "We're done!" he growls before jetting away.

Tara goes home to an empty place. The silence deafening. She looks around. Despite the mess nothing is missing. Apparently. Soon the missing photo frame is noted. He probably took it. An image picturing happier times. They are long gone now. Still fresh in her memory, though. He would take her for a ride through the many Californian deserts he knew so well. They would stop somewhere. A hidden cabin. An abandoned rest stop. And they would make love. Not sex. Love. It is hard to fall asleep in that huge bed.

A few days later Jax calls again. When she doesn't answer he starts texting. She ignores the messages as much as she can, he needs the tough love approach. Until his last one. _You'll be happy to know I just attended my first AA meeting. It was...interesting. _She smiles, almost giddy. _Yes Jax, I'm happy. For you. Keep going . T._


	4. Chapter 4

Time goes by, as it should be. She still misses him dearly but not feeling ready. Not yet. This is why the bell ringing one given night nearly makes her jump out of her skin. He shouldn't be there. But he is. Grinning, holding flowers and challenging her with his puppy dog eyes. "Jax..."

She finds an old vase, places it on the coffee table and sits at his side, regretting her choice the moment she looks at him. He gets it as a come-hither hint and wastes no time doing so. He motions to kiss her cheek, she retreats. "No." He stops and takes her hand in his, caressing her palm. His hand is warm and callused like she remembers. The goosebumps run her arms. _This is not ending well._

He holds her hands in his for what seems forever. She has missed it more than she wants to admit. He looks into her eyes, not saying a word. The man she wants back starts to unfold in front of her. He kisses her hands until he feels safe to go further. Reaching her forehead he starts a trail of soft, gentle pecks that end at the side of her lips. Tara flutters her lashes shut, anticipating what is about to come. He picks her up and carries her to the bedroom.

Jax drops her on the bed and follows falling over her. As the panic initiates in her eyes he understands it was not a good idea. He lies back and pulls her body over his. Now she's the one on control.

He combs her hair back gently and they spend the next twenty minutes rekindling to each other by kissing over and over again. A familiar warmth arises from the center of her body as she feels his needy hands run up and down her back while he glues his lower half to hers.

Tara obviously gets the hint but she is willing to ignore the heat in her guts and wait a little bit longer. He will have to work his way harder this time. Eventually she surrenders and caresses the washboard he hides under the white t-shirt, a feature she has always been proud to show around. _The hot piece is mine, bitches. Thankyouverymuch!_

He stops her hands halfway and carefully lies her back again. "I want this night to be beautiful," he murmurs in her ear just before heading slowly down. Tara shuts her eyes and bites her lower lip as he takes her sweater pants off. She is now left scantily dressed in a tank top and her drenched cotton panties, feeling exposed and just as naked. She hears his shoes dropping on the floor as he kicks them off and holds her breath, covering her face. It can go anywhere from here.

Jax pulls her panties aside and meticulously starts working on her. He licks down and then up again, taking his time, paying attention to each quiver of her thighs, dosing the speed of the laps on her sweet, increased button. The process brings him back fond memories of their old school days when she was too afraid to actually fuck. They would spend the afternoons secluded in his bedroom while he performed on her, having a pillow covering her face so no one in the house would hear her squeals of teen lust. Years later he has mastered his skills.

Suddenly he pulls back standing up. Tara is disappointed he did not finish but refuses to complain. Jax strips from his cut, his t-shirt and has his eyes locked to hers as he unbuckles the belt. The clinking sound is enough to drive her crazy, she is about to claw him if he doesn't cover her now. But he teases her by extending the act of taking his pants off. He tortures her even further by standing there in his boxer briefs, outlined by his undeniable desire.

He finally lies down again unexpectedly going back to his previous position. He yanks her panties off and this is when Tara melts. Jax starts tongue-fucking her. Vigorously, profoundly. He has to stop though when she starts pulling on his hair and threatening to squash his head with the strength of her thighs.

Differently from the other night he scents of soap and aftershave as she welcomes him back to her arms while he effortlessly slides in.


	5. Chapter 5

Tara observes there are a few bikers loitering out of the St. Thomas as she arrives to work. She knows for sure it is not about Jax since they spent the night together. At least most of it.

After they finished in the bedroom she invited him to shower where they continued making up for the lost days they spent apart. He rubbed her back with her favorite lavender soap while they kissed passionately under the steaming water. It was good to go back to old times yet she stepped out as soon as her fingertips started to wrinkle. "I'll get you a towel," Tara offered.

She came back wrapped in her own bath towel while handing his. "You wouldn't believe what time it is. I need to be at the hospital at six." Jax sled the shower door open and took the towel from her hand. "Don't worry," he smiled, "I'll wake you up in time."

Tara frowned. "Jax, you're not staying overnight." He stared back at her trying to digest what she just said. "Huh?" She stepped back feeling tired. It was starting all over again. "While it was great, I still wasn't planning on this. I think we should wait some more."

The look on his face was heart-wrenching but she still stood on her ground. "I went to the AA, I kept a safe distance, I even brought you flowers. I've been doing my best to get you back and this is how you thank me?" She tries hard not to cry again. "Jax, I'm so sorry, I just..." He drops the damp towel on the floor and stomps back to the bedroom. "Well, fuck you!" After he got dressed in a hurry and left banging the door behind, the house fell so silent she thought she would go crazy.

It is time to sink back into work. When she's at the hospital her inner demons seem to drown a little. Taking care of people in more need than her is soothing, even more for the ones that can't even talk yet. Margaret is waiting for her as soon as she steps inside. "Good morning, Tara. Patrick would like to see you. He's waiting in my office." Tara raises an eyebrow. "The cardiologist?" The other woman nods. "Yes, come now."

"Good morning, Tara," the man greets his colleague as soon as she walks in the office. "Morning, Patrick. Anything wrong?" He exchanges a knowing look with Margaret. "There's a patient I want you to see. He had two heart attacks in a row last night. As you know the first twenty-four hours are crucial. Please keep that in mind, yes?" A not-so-good feeling builds up inside Tara. "I want to see the patient now," she demands.

The trio walks to the infirmary ward but Tara is conduced to a room with a single bed. There is someone lying on the bed hidden by all the pipes that keep him alive. There are other people in the room but she only acknowledges the body that lies still. As soon as she reaches closer her worst fears are confirmed.

It is Jax.


	6. Chapter 6

"Oh my God, Jax...Jax! What happened?" Tara cries out of despair, holding his arm and irrationally wishing he will answer.

"What is she even doing here? After all she did to my son, I can't..." Tara looks up, Gemma Morrow, Jax's mother is there, scowling at her. "What? Do you even know what he did to _me_?" she retorts. "Ladies, please. This is not the time and place. The patient needs some rest," Dr. Pilgrim intervenes, "Mrs. Morrow, you can come back later."

Tara snatches the chart from the holder attached to the edge of the bed. It is obvious, from what she understands of his admission notes, Jax's heart condition caused the heart attacks but being under stress the last days contributed a lot. She is ridden by regret as she leaves the room. If she had not sent him away, if she had let him stay – at least for that one night...maybe, just maybe, he held a chance. If anything happened she could employ CPR, she could save his life.

"He fainted at a...um...club member's house. It was about two in the morning. When they called nine-one-one he was already in the second heart attack," Margaret explains, following Tara to the corridor. "Why didn't anyone call me?" Tara sobs. "It happened too fast," Margaret answers.

"Are you happy now?" Gemma is after her again, being held back by her husband Clay Morrow but still voicing her feelings, "Is this what you wanted?" She throws a small object at Tara, "Well, there, you got it. Completely at my son's expense!" Clay holds her. "Gemma, come with me," the man soothes.

As the couple leaves Tara kneels down and picks up what was tossed at her. It is a small brass coin, with the words '3 MONTHS' engraved inside a triangle. A sober coin. She holds it in her hand as the tears stream. Tara spent years wishing her dad would go to AA and get at least one of those coins. He never cared.

She walks back to the room. Excluding the beep of the ECG machine that assures he is still alive, the room is silent. Tara does not believe the machine. She places her own stethoscope on his chest in order to hear his heartbeats herself. It is relieving. Dr. Pilgrim spots her and approaches her. "Tara, I am sorry. You shouldn't stay here," he is gentle yet firm. She hangs the stethoscope back on her neck. "I need to. It is my fault he is lying in this bed," she assumes.

The man looks at her, surprised by her blatant statement. "Oh Tara, no. Of course not. You know he inherited a heart disease. This is a consequence, something that _could_ happen. It is not your fault." Tara smiles at her man. "When are you taking him out the induced coma?" Dr. Pilgrim observes his patient. "Well, as I told you, the next few hours will determine." She holds onto Jax's arm. He looks like an angel when he sleeps.

pats her shoulders paternally. "Now, now, you must go. I will call if something changes. We will take good care of him." Tara protests, "But I'm a doctor too. I can take care of him myself."

The man smiles as he perceives how much she loves her boyfriend. "Listen, dear, you will be here when I cut the medicine to half, ok? We will be taking some pipes off too."

Tara concedes one last look at Jax before walking slowly out the door, feeling miserable because she can't do anything. Then she turns to Dr. Pilgrim in a hurry. "The lights. Jax likes dim light. Please turn the lights down," Tara pleads.

The hours go by taking longer than she can wait. Margaret calls a nurse to help Tara get along with her work, making it two nurses instead of the usual one. When a little boy that is the spitting image of Jax walks in she has to brace herself not to hug him and cry. A few tears are shed but she handles well.

When her call hours are finally over she has the choice to go back home or stay in the call room, but she decides to go straight to Jax's room. He lies there immovable. A pipe has been removed which is a good thing, meaning he's on the road to recovery. They just don't know when.

Tara pulls a chair and sits by his side in the dark. Her mind goes back to the memories that never leave her. He had just turned President and she thought things would get better from there. He was always saying he wanted to get married, even since they were high-school sweethearts, she was expecting him to pop the question any day soon but instead he kept popping beer cans open. All the pressure of being what his father once was, all the oppressing duties of leading an entire club, having to deal with the unknown got to him. He was fading and turning to booze - instead of her, to find the strength he didn't think he had. The sad part is, he had enablers to that sorry behavior.

Dr. Pilgrim did not lie about his patient's recovery, though. Two days later what was just a sparkle of hope became a full bonfire when he brought Jax back from the induced coma. Tara is there when the IV is removed from his arm. She patiently awaits for him to wake up, that can be anytime soon now.

As the night turns into dawn Tara sits there, leaned over his still arm and slightly dozing away when she feels it. She startles awake. It could be she was dreaming or it could be real. She presses the stethoscope to his chest, the heart rate is good. "Wake up, Sleeping Beauty," Tara murmurs holding his hand.

First his index finger stirs lightly, then the middle finger. Tara holds his hand, rubbing gently, "Wake up, my love."

Jax's eyelashes flutter but his eyes remain shut. She calls louder, "Jax. Wake up my dear." Finally he responds, slightly squinting his eyes open. Tara smiles at him as he makes an effort to smile back. "Tara..." His voice is weak and husky. She caresses his face, "Jax..."

He faintly grasps her hand. "Where am I?" he murmurs. She explains everything that happened, carefully omitting the bad parts while checking his heartbeats with the stethoscope. He will be fine.

"Come here," he calls. Tara gets closer but it is not enough for him. "No. I want you here with me, by my side...Get in the bed." She is smiling as she climbs into the hospital bed, managing not to hurt his debilitated body while settling down.

She places a soft hand on his bare chest. Jax holds her hand and kisses her forehead. "Stay with me. Forever." Tara looks up at him. "I'm here." He embraces her and holds as tight as he can. "It is not enough. I want you close, every single day of my life, for the rest of my days. All that time we spent away, it was like dying a little each day. I learned so much at the AA meetings...I could have died without you...I want to get married as soon as I get out of this bed. I'm sorry I can't kneel to propose properly..."

He wipes the tears from her eyes. "Please tell me you mean 'yes'." Tara sighs before leaning in, attaching her lips to his. "Yes, yes, yes," she murmurs just before they kiss away.


End file.
